Haunting Memories of a Former Life
by Emerald Kitten
Summary: Violet's first Halloween as a permanent resident of Murder House. Reflecting on the events of the past year, she finds herself in the middle of something she never thought possible. You can never escape the haunting memories of your former life…even in death.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Violet Harmon sighed as her Converse clad foot hit the pavement outside the iron gates of her home, Murder House, for this first time in months. 'One small step for Violet' she thought to herself, smirking. What sweet ecstasy it was, finally being able to leave that house.

She didn't know where she was going; she just wanted to get out. Today, the journey was just as important as the destination. Despite not having a destination in mind, Violet happily wondered down the sidewalk, humming gently to herself. As she walked, enjoying the morning symphony of leaves rustling in the breeze, she let her mind wander.

A year ago, Violet would never have thought she would be perfectly happy to just walk through her neighbourhood on Halloween morning, completely aimlessly.

A year ago, Violet Harmon had been alive.

It was Halloween, 2012. The dead could roam the earth freely on Halloween. And Violet was unfortunately dead.

Murder House had been her home since late 2011; her prison since November that year. She had never dreamed that that house would be the death of her. No, that was wrong. That house hadn't been the death of her. That was something else... a darkness which had consumed her. That darkness took residency in the form of another soul trapped in the Murder House. Thinking of him as a soul, that wasn't right. She wasn't even sure he had a soul anymore. She didn't like to even think his name. It was too painful. Despite not thinking his name, she couldn't stop the vision of his face floating into her mind's eye. Blonde curls, a reassuring smile, and eyes so black they threatened to drag her soul down into the darkness with him.

That darkness was the legacy of Murder House.

The other ghostly inhabitants of Murder House had scattered in the wind as soon as the sun rose on Halloween morning. Violet didn't ask where they went. It wasn't any of her business. In a house where no one could hide, she figured they deserved a silent, explanation free escape. After all, they were stuck with each other for 364 days a year.

Violet pulled her mind back from her musings. Her feet had taken her to a convenience store. Smiling, Violet entered and purchased a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. It's not like smoking was going to do her any damage now that she was dead, right?

Taking her newly purchased treasures, Violet left the store and continued wandering aimlessly. She walked for hours, enjoying this simple pleasure she had been denied for so long. Eventually, her happy wandering bought her to a picturesque park, complete with an unoccupied swing set.

"This is too perfect," Violet said to herself as she sat down on a swing, leisurely smoking a cigarette. No one paid attention to the quiet girl sitting alone. She watched the people just walk by. Something so trivial was best enjoyed alone.

Today was a day for Violet to be alone. She hadn't wanted any company. Her parents had wanted her to join them in taking a drive out to the country and enjoy the fresh air. Violet could understand that they wanted to get as far away as possible from the insufferable torment that was existence in the Murder House. Her parents had settled to spend their free day with her eternal baby brother and Moira, the maid who had become an adopted member of their dead family.

Moira's mother had passed away last year, leaving Moira with no standing plans for Halloween. She had been visiting her aging mother every Halloween for the last 30 years, but this year was the first time she was without family to visit. With no way of knowing if her Mother would even return to walk amongst the living this Halloween, Moira had decided to spend the day with her new family.

Ben Harmon, Violet's father, had stolen a car for the family trip that morning. Finally his misspent youth was paying off.

Violet had waved and smiled at her family as they drove away, determined to enjoy their day of freedom. Her mother had blown a kiss to her, and Moira had waved the baby's tiny hand towards his sister. Part of Violet had wanted to drive away with them, but a stronger part of her was relishing the chance to spend a day completely alone, doing anything and nothing.

Every day she had to stay confided in that house, seeing the same ghosts over and over again, had become a drain to say the least. Hayden was always angry with anyone who crossed her path. Gladys and Maria, with their never changing 'Look at what he did to me'. The fact that Violet could never, truly escape from so much misery was slowly ebbing away at her resolve to try and exist happily with her family.

That's what the house did to souls who died a tormented death; it magnified even the slightest hint of darkness that you may have had, twisting and contorting you into a shadow of your former self. Taking away any hint of pure light and goodness from your being. The other members of the Harmon family had been spared this torment, thankfully. Perhaps it was because Ben and Vivien had made peace with their deaths. In death, they had become the loving family unit that they had always wanted to be in life.

Despite this, Violet felt the darkness. She felt its insatiable pull. But Violet's darkness was different. She still felt the pull of the darkness surrounding her, but her darkness didn't come from within as it did with so many others. It existed elsewhere. A darkness that she could feel watching her every day keeping a constant, unwanted vigil. She wasn't sure if that made her existence any easier or harder, but she did know it made _his_ existence almost unbearable. And yet every day he kept his unrelenting watch over her; waiting - the person who held her darkness. It was his sole possession after all; the one with the blonde curls and the reassuring smile.

He had been her light, when she had been alive that was. He had even tried to save her life once, but to no avail. Murder House wanted Violet despite him fighting against it. Ultimately the house won, claiming Violet's soul as its prize.

Now, he was the darkness to Violet.

"No!" Violet berated herself. Her first chance away from that house, and she could not stop thinking about him. Her first chance in months to get some distance, and she still managed to bring him along for the ride, even if it was only in her mind.

The sun was starting to set. She had been sitting in that park for hours. When you're dead, time has no meaning. Violet had hardly noticed the day drawing to a close around her as she sat on that swing.

Stubbing her cigarette out on the ground with the toe of her shoe, she dragged herself up out of her comfortable swing seat. She wanted to walk more, to get as much distance between herself and the Murder House as she possibly could before it began to reel her back in for sunrise the next day. Like a domineering mother, Murder House would only let you get so far away from its apron strings before harshly tugging you back.

For the second time that day Violet started walking with no destination in mind. She kept her head down while she lit another cigarette. The smoke she inhaled was an old friend that she had been separated from for far too long.

Looking up, Violet realised that she had made her way to the beach…their beach. Her damn feet had led her to the one place besides Murder House that she didn't particularly want to be. Sighing in resignation, Violet sat down on the cool white sand, remembering the last time she was here. This was the place she had shared with _him_ last Halloween.

He had brought her here on their first and only date. It hadn't been a normal date by any standards. There was no dinner and a movie. They just hung out, laughing and talking. Watching the wave's crash into the shore and enjoying the warmth of the fire he had built for her. He had held her as they watched the night go by. Violet had never felt so safe before in her life.

The memory of sitting near that fire, wrapped in his protective embrace, brought a sad smile to Violet's face. Before she realised it she was touching her lips, smiling into the memory of him kissing her. Every time he kissed her then it had been pure bliss.

But that first date had not ended how she pictured it. They had been ambushed by the haunting memories of his former life.

"Come on Violet, stop this shit!" She commanded, pushing herself up from the sand. She was just glad the beach appeared deserted so no one would witness her talking to herself.

Dusting herself off, she continued to walk along the shoreline, watching the ripple of the water as it crashed and retracted against the shore, listening to the gentle music of the ocean at night. She couldn't hear the ocean from her house. As much as she hadn't meant to come here, she was glad she did. The sound of the ocean was so soothing. Despite not being a huge beach person during life, Violet found that she missed the simple sound of the ocean in her death.

Violet wrapped her arms around herself. The night air had a bite to it. She wasn't sure if it was the chill in the night air, or the chill of those memories from last Halloween that bought goose bumps to her body.

She cast her eyes to the moons reflection on the ocean. It was beautiful the way it shimmered and danced on that water. She wanted to burn the beautiful image permanently into her brain. It was something to remember fondly until next Halloween at least.

A movement is the corner of her eye brought her back from admiring the water. Further down the beach she could see something flickering. Flickering like a fire. Not a small fire like what they had that past Halloween, but a large bonfire. Looking up and down the beach, Violet realised she had walked quite a long way from where she originally been sitting, thinking about_ him_. Too far away to see exactly what was happening, Violet thought she could make out people shaped silhouettes against the orange of the flames.

"I guess I'm not alone here after all," Violet said to herself. "I'll never be alone."

She turned, ready to leave the beach that was no longer deserted. A scream filled with anguish cut through the crisp night air, stopping her mid-step. A scream that sounded inhuman in its despair. It sounded impossibly close. That scream had come from someone near that bonfire.

Violet froze, listening. She couldn't be sure that it was a scream she heard. It sounded too loud to have come from so far away. She turned her head towards the bonfire. Straining to listen for any sound, Violet held her breath and closed her eyes.

Sobbing. It was faint, but she could hear the sound of muffled crying…and groaning. It was definitely coming from where that bonfire was blazing.

She was running down the beach towards that sound before she knew what she was doing. Whatever was going on by that bonfire, she had to help the person in pain.

Finally, Violet was close enough to feel the warmth of the fire. She could see a group of people furiously kicking at something on the ground. Another scream ripped through the night, this one filled with sheer pain. The scream came from what the group was kicking at.

She stood, taking in the scene unfolding in front of her. She had reacted to the first scream on pure instinct, running towards it. Now she was at the bonfire, she was paralysed.

That group was attacking someone. Whoever it was couldn't defend themselves, not against this many people. The victim's back was facing Violet. They were curled up in a foetal position on the ground, their head tucked into their body with their arms wrapped around it for protection. She could see the pools of blood on the sand though. The group had done some serious damage already.

No-one acknowledged Violet's sudden presence as she stood watching.

The violent attack continued. One particularly malicious kick delivered to the centre of the back was all it took to roll the victim over. His back arched in response to the sudden pain. He let go of his head, too focused on the pain in his back to concentrate on protecting it any longer. Violet could see his blood covered face finally. His eyes were closed, his mouth open in a choked expression of agony.

Violet's breath caught in her throat. Her heart froze at the sight in front of her. One word slipped out before she could stop herself,

"Tate…?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She felt her heart shatter as the whispered name left her lips. It had been so long since she had even thought his name, let alone spoken it. The pain of uttering his name was unbelievable. Violet's hand went to her chest, trying in vain to stop her heart from ripping though her body.

She has sworn to herself never to utter than name again. Now, she had let it slip without a moment's hesitation. She watched, her hand still clutching at her chest, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at her, acknowledge her. Frozen with shock she waited; the pain in her chest still invading her soul. Time stood still for Violet as the attack continued uninterrupted on him…on _Tate_.

He didn't open his eyes. He hadn't heard her whisper his name. She couldn't believe it. He hadn't heard her. The mere mention of his name nearly destroyed her, and he didn't even hear it.

His attackers continued their assault on the barely recognisable blonde boy, kicking and punching him repeatedly, unaware of the ghostly girl watching them from the shadows. She couldn't believe no one knew she was there, watching. Tate was usually aware of everything she did. Every time she had tried to escape him in Murder House, he always found her. There was no where there she could hide from his gaze. He spent every day watching her with tears in his eyes. His darkness had become her constant companion in death.

After spending nearly an entire year without speaking to him, ignoring his silent pleas, he was there in front of her. Lying helplessly on the ground like a wounded animal. She couldn't ignore him now, not when he was being attacked like this. But what was lying on the ground wasn't the Tate she used to know; the boy who had protected and loved her. This wasn't the bloodthirsty monster that lived inside him either; the darkness she was originally attracted to. That darkness would fight back. The fact that it was five against one wouldn't matter; that darkness would fight with such intensity that none of the five would have been left standing. She knew now what he had been capable of. What lay on the ground was not the darkness she knew. This wasn't her darkness.

What lay on the ground in front of her was broken - not just in body, but in spirit also. He was bloody and battered and sobbing; a shadow of his former self.

This was not her Tate.

He had surrendered to what was happening to him. Now he was a helpless victim, just like every person he had ever murdered.

The members of the group still hadn't noticed her standing there, hidden by the shadows. They may not have noticed her, but she could see them now. Realisation crashed down on her like one of the oceans' waves crashing onto the beach. She knew who they were, she remembered them. The cheerleader uniform, the letterman jacket, the Goth makeup, the black leather jacket, the geek. Chloe, Kyle, Stephanie, Kevin, Amir. Violet could see them all. She could never forget them. Bloodied, brutalised. They looked just like they did the last time she saw them. Not surprising really, since they were dead. Tate was responsible for that. The haunting memories of his former life were now attacking him without restraint.

The Dead Breakfast Club. After 18 years, it seemed they were finally getting their revenge on him.

The problem was Tate couldn't be killed. He had been dead since 1994, when he had been gunned down after shooting up his high school, killing his classmates in cold blood. The fact that he couldn't be killed again didn't seem to diminish the groups' determination though. They continued to kick and punch at the broken form on the ground.

"Tate!" This time she spoke louder, the pain in her chest dulling slightly as she said his name for the second time that night. The Dead Breakfast Club still didn't notice her, but it wasn't them she was trying to reach.

He opened one swollen eyelid, seeing her for the first time. His arms now wrapped around his stomach, his legs curled up into his body. He held her gaze, unable to blink. "Vi?" he choked softly, spitting blood as he spoke. A soft smile played on his lips at the sight of her. A kick to his face blocked that smile from Violet's view. She could still hear his sobbing though. Still see his shaking body.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" Violet screamed. The kick to Tate's face had snapped her into action.

The group stopped their violent assault on Tate, turning away from him and towards the screaming young girl standing at the edge of the bonfires' light. They each wore an identical look of surprise on their faces. Apparently, they had also thought they were alone on this beach.

The first to speak was Kevin, wearing the black biker leather jacket. "This doesn't concern you sweetheart. Why don't you keep walking down the beach and forget you saw anything."

"He deserves this and more. Trust me," spat the gothic painted Stephanie, venom dripping from her voice as she delivered another kick to Tate's back.

"I'm not going anywhere. You need to stop this now," Violet walked forward while saying this, her hands held in front of her in what she hoped was a non-threatening gesture. She was suddenly aware that she had no weapon to defend herself with against this mob.

Stephanie squinted at Violet, trying to see her better. After a moment, Violet could see realisation dawn in the Goth girl's eyes. "Well what do you know, it's the girlfriend. Remember her, with the scissors last year? What, no scissors this time 'round? And you were so cute trying to defend him last year, all serious and shit."

Kevin moved away from the group surrounding Tate, bending down to pick something up off the ground. Violet was hopeful that maybe he was leaving. That hope faded when she saw the glint of the hunting knife blade now in his hand. The blade was already streaked with dried blood. "Now tell me, sweetheart, why would we stop this? It took us years to find this little fuck the first time. I plan to have some fun now that we've got him." He was slowly walking towards Violet, the knife held casually in his hand.

Violet kept her eyes on the blade. She may not of been able to die, but that didn't mean she wanted to get stabbed either. "It's just not a good idea," her voice faltered for a second. The fear she felt was beginning to bubble to the surface.

"But I… no we, think it's a great idea," Kevin pointing to each member of the group with his knife, smiling evilly. "We don't care what you think," Kevin paused for a moment, tapping his cheek with the knife blade, his face deep in contemplation. "Come to think of it, I don't give a shit about anything you have to say. Leave…now." His voice dipped into a threatening tone with this command.

Kyle, the jock with the letterman jacket and a bullet wound in his forehead stepped forward, blocking Violet's path to Tate and severing Violet's sight of him completely. "You need to leave now. You know what he did to us. We've been waiting for this for so long. We deserve this."

"This bastard," sobbed Chloe, pointing down at Tate, "Won't even tell us why he did it!" the cheerleader punctuated each sob with a kick to Tate's crippled body.

"I know exactly what he did. To all of you…," Violet whispered, looking up into Kyle's eyes. She wanted him to see she knew the pain and suffering Tate had caused.

"Then why, the fuck, do you want us to stop? We DESEREVE this," Kyle repeated taking one step closer to Violet.

Chloe was crying uncontrollably now. "I should be married now. I should have children, a family. He took my future away! Why should we stop?" She wandered away from Tate, collapsing on the ground closer to the fire. The cheerleader exhausted, grieving the life she would never have. "Why should we stop?" She whispered to herself.

"Life is shit, you can't change that. It's all bullshit. You can't change what he did. There's no way to take it back. You're all dead now. Why spend the one night you get free beating the shit out of him? What good is going to come of it?"

"The good, babe, is that I'm enjoying this," Violet heard Kevin's voice answer from near the bonfire. Violet took one step to her left, looking past Kyle, needing to see what the dead boy was talking about.

She had been too busy trying to reason with Kyle that she hadn't noticed Kevin make his way back to Tate. Kevin was now crouched in the sand next to Tate, his knee on the blonde boy's chest, holding him down. Kevin roughly grabbed a handful of Tate's hair in one hand, keeping him still. It didn't matter though, Tate wasn't fighting. He wasn't moving at all. He just stared at Violet, trying to tell her something with his eyes that she couldn't understand. Slowly, Kevin brought the hand holding the knife down, until it was pressed against his murderers' cheek. "Sure, we only get one night a year, but I'm making this night count."

And with that, Kevin pressed the tip of the blade down into Tate's cheek, breaking the surface as it dragged across his skin. Violet watched in horror as Kevin dragged the blade slowly down his victim's face, slashing the blonde boy from cheek to chin. The excruciatingly slow pace in which Kevin committed the act was chilling. Tate screamed in pain; a streak of blood ran down his face, hitting the sand below. Violet could see unshed tears in Tate's eyes. She unconsciously reached her hand out to him, trying to ease his pain.

Kevin brought the knife to his smiling lips, tasting the blood. Relishing it.

"Now, Langdon, what's the expression…Oh that's right, an eye for an eye." Kevin still had a handful of Tate's hair. He twisted viciously until Tate's head was at an extremely uncomfortable, unnatural angle. The knife crept towards Tate's right eye, hovering half an inch above it. Tate was breathing heavily. Violet could see his body was shaking.

"He didn't shoot any of you in the eye, asshole," It had escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Faintly, she heard Tate laugh. Violet couldn't help but smirk at the familiar sound. It had been so long since she had heard it. The laugh was silenced by Kevin's fist connecting with Tate's face. She took a step towards Tate and Kevin, but Kyle was still blocking her path. She was vaguely aware of Kyle's hand clamped down on her arm, keeping her from advancing. She wasn't concentrating on what was happening to her though. She could only see Tate on the ground.

"Vi, please, just go. Leave…" Violet barely heard the whispered plea from Tate. She looked on in horror as Kevin, still pinning Tate to the ground, continued to hold the knife over his prisoner's eye. Kevin dripped the blade slightly, nicking Tate's swollen eyelid. Tate didn't finch though. He just kept staring at Violet, willing her to leave.

Kevin turned his attention from Tate, staring directly at Violet. The reflection of the bonfire gave his eyes an eerie, disturbing quality. His face was bathed in constantly moving shadows. She could see an idea forming as his eyes darted back and forth between Tate and herself. It was the expression in those eyes when they locked onto Violet that made her blood run cold. Glee. The bastard was taking great delight in torturing Tate. This, coupled with the malicious grin that was growing on Kevin's face, gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She tried to take a step back, but Kyle's hand was still on her arm, holding her in place. Not yielding in the slightest. She knew she should run. Her instincts were screaming, telling her to get away before the night got any worse. One quick push was all it would take to get Kyle's hand off of her. People didn't expect a small girl like her to pack much of a punch…but she could. And she could run. Run back to the sanctuary that Murder House offered. But she couldn't just leave Tate. Despite everything he had done, to these kids and her family, she couldn't abandon him. Not like this. Not again.

"I'm bored with this shit. Let's play a game…" Stephanie broke the silence with a sullen tone. She slowly walked towards Violet, stalking her. Like a lion moving in for the kill.

Violet was suddenly aware of someone grabbing both her arms, painfully wrenching them behind her back. A whimper of agony escaped Violet's lips before she could stop it. Looking over her shoulder, she could see that it was Amir; the nerdy boy with the missing jaw had grabbed her, holding her in a vice-like grip. He had come up behind her while she was distracted watching Kevin and Tate. She was trapped now. She was at the mercy of The Dead Breakfast Club. Violet had a feeling that they weren't feeling very merciful tonight.

Violet looked at the other members of The Dead Breakfast Club. Kevin was still crouched next to Tate, again holding the blonde boy's hair in a cruel grip, his knee now firmly pressed into Tate's neck. Chloe was slumped in a heap by the bonfire, her murderous rage having faded now to woeful sorrow for her lost life. Stephanie, her arms crossed against her chest and a smirk on her face, was standing next to Kyle. The jock wore a look of regret mixed with uncertainty. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but he had removed his hand from her arm.

"What are you going to do?" asked Violet, struggling against Amir's hold on her.

A look passed between Kevin and Stephanie. Violet didn't know what they were thinking, but she knew it wouldn't be good for her. She realised she didn't want an answer to her question.

"I do have one idea," Kevin evilly grinned up at Violet. Rising to his full height, his attention was almost fully on her now. He hadn't forgotten about Tate though, giving him a parting kick to the stomach as he stepped over the blonde boy. Tate groaned and held his body where the kick had landed. He lay still, barely moving as he coughed up blood. He looked completely defeated. If Violet hadn't of known differently, she would have thought Tate was dead. Again.

Kevin still held the knife in his hand. He looked extremely comfortable with it, almost like it was an extension of his arm. "I think we should play with you for a while."

He advanced on Violet, the look in his eyes terrifying her. Maybe it wasn't the firelight reflection that was causing that look in Kevin's eyes before. Maybe, Kevin was now as deranged as Tate was that morning 18 years ago when he had decided shooting up his High School was a good idea.

Stephanie leaned in close to Violet, as if to share a secret with her. "I think your boyfriend will enjoy watching this," she whispered. As she pulled away, Violet could see the disturbing look in the Goth girl's eyes. "You brought this on yourself, remember that. You throw your hat in with _him_," Stephanie jerked her head towards Tate's motionless form slumped on the ground, "You deserve everything he gets. Maybe more," she didn't even try to hide the intense hatred in her voice from Violet.

Hearing this, Violet started to struggle harder against her captor. The harder she struggled though, the tighter Amir's grasp became on her arms.

Kevin had finally joined the group surrounding Violet. He winked at her, announcing his arrival. It wasn't a reassuring gesture; it sent a chill though her soul. She realised there was no way out of this for her now. The Dead Breakfast Club was going to punish her for something she had already been punishing herself for every day since she said goodbye to Tate.

In their half circle formation, the group was blocking Violet's view from Tate. They didn't want him to see what they were doing to her, yet.

Still smiling at Violet, Kevin took one step closer to her, standing so close that she could feel his breath on her face. Kyle and Stephanie were standing behind him now, watching; still obstructing Violet from Tate's eyes. Kevin turned and whispered something to the two dead teenagers behind him. Violet strained, but she couldn't hear what was being said. The Goth looked sinfully happy. The Jock was squirming uncomfortably. Chloe, too consumed with her grief, sat in a heap by the fire.

Kevin ran the dirty blade across Violet's cheek, mirroring the action he had performed on Tate only minutes ago. She could feel the cool metal of the blade tip, but she didn't feel it slice into her skin. She was sure that part was coming soon.

"Sweetheart," whispered Kevin as he stepped closer to her, "You know that killing you will hurt Langdon more than we ever could."

Violet stared into Kevin's eyes desperately, searching for a hint that he knew the truth about her. All she saw was cruelty and amusement. Disbelief was suffocating her mind. A new level of panic was building in Violet. They didn't know she was already dead. She couldn't believe it. Knowing she was a ghost wouldn't do her any good now though. The Dead Breakfast Club had already decided they were going to kill her. If they knew she was already dead, how many times would they repeatedly 'kill' her tonight once they realised she couldn't be killed?

Kevin ran the blade gently down her face across her cheek, following its curve. He stopped at her mouth, softly tugging at her bottom lip with the sharp point. Not with enough pressure to cut her, but with enough pressure to make her know he was serious. He leaned closer again, his cheek brushing against hers. "I don't want to ruin the surprise for Langdon, sweetheart. I want him to watch you die and know he couldn't do anything about it. I want him to feel helpless, just like I did when he shot me."

Violet couldn't stop the solitary tear from falling down her face.

Kevin stepped away from Violet, confusing her. She understood the movement a moment later, when she felt Amir yank her body to the left. The boy had turned her so that Tate would have an unobstructed view of her 'death'. That was, of course, when Stephanie got out of the way.

She could see that Stephanie and Kyle had repositioned themselves either side of Tate; Kyle was crouched next to the boy, his fists balled up in Tate's shirt, keeping him flat on the ground. Stephanie towered over him, blocking Tate's eyes from seeing what was about to happen in front of him. He wasn't struggling against the restraint though.

The fight was gone from Violet's darkness.

Stephanie stepped over her murderers' body and turned to face towards Violet once more. She could see the Goth girl was grinning uncontrollably. She looked like a child on Christmas morning. Kyle was looking more uncomfortable than before. Uncertainty was clearly written all over his face now.

Violet watched as Stephanie squatted down next to Tate and proceeded to cover his mouth with a strip of silver duct tape, giving him a sharp slap across his cut cheek when the gag was in place. The Goth girl then gripped Tate's head roughly with both her hands, leaned down and placed a loud kiss on top of his covered mouth, smiling insanely the entire time. Violet watched as Tate struggled against Stephanie's grip. She didn't know what the Goth girl was trying to achieve, besides pissing Tate off.

Violet watched as Stephanie's hand snaked down from Tate's face and grabbed his neck, twisting his head sharply to the side, forcing his attention to Kevin and Amir with their new victim. When Tate's eyes finally locked with Violet's, she could see his black orbs widen with realisation and fear.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Stephanie leaned down to Tate's ear. Violet could see the girl's lips moving. She could see the devilish expression on Stephanie's face as she looked at Violet, but she couldn't hear what was being said. At Stephanie's words, Tate's struggles become frenzied; desperate. He was growling against his gag now. The sounds coming from his throat were savage. The Goth and The Jock continued to keep him trapped on the ground, forcing him to watch.

Kevin moved so he was facing Violet. She could see the self-satisfied smirk on his face. This is exactly what he wanted Tate to see. This is how he'll exact his revenge after all these years.

The blade was returned to her face, resting on her lip again. Kevin stepped in closer to her again. "Sweetheart," he whispered, "Remember to scream for Langdon. It'll make this so much better…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Violet felt the weight of the blade bite into her bottom lip, puncturing the delicate skin. She hissed at the pain of the foreign object invading her body. Despite the pain, she tried to hold still. Any motion she made would only cut her further.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see movement. Tate was still struggling against the teens holding him; fighting to be free. Another tear rolled down Violet's face. She knew Tate being forced to watch her like this and not being able to stop it was the most monstrous torture he could possibly experience. Tate being forced to watch this attack and not being able to stop it was far worse than Violet ignoring him for all those months.

She had wanted to punish him for what he had done. Punish him for being the darkness in her life. Make him pay for all the pain he was responsible for. He had to be held accountable; he had to pay for what he had done. But she hadn't wanted him to suffer like this. Making him watch as she was tortured was inhuman.

Violet knew that watching her being mutilated would strip away Tate's last shred of sanity.

Kevin's chuckling snapped though Violet's thoughts. He had withdrawn the knife from her lip, but it was now resting softly against her exposed neck. The bastard was watching Tate rive on the ground, still pinned by Stephanie and Kyle.

"Well Langdon," started Kevin in a cheerful tone, "If we had known that hurting your girl was all it took to get this reaction we wouldn't have wasted all that time kicking the shit out of you. What do you think, sweetheart?" Kevin turned away from Tate, focusing his attention solely on Violet now. "Are you enjoying our little game?"

"You're sick, you know that?" Violet said, staring the boy in the leather jacket squarely in the eyes. "This is messed up, hurting me. Do you want to be a murderer, like him?" She jerked her head in Tate's direction. She could still feel the cool metal of the blade resting against her neck with each word she spoke.

"Sweetheart," Kevin leaned in again, whispering softly, "I'm just getting started. You haven't begun to feel pain yet. By the time we're finished, Langdon won't be able to identify you."

She knew he was serious. The Dead Breakfast Club was definitely planning to drag this out all night.

"Do you get off doing this?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself.

"Not like your boy there does, but I have to admit, there is a certain appeal to it," Kevin confided quietly to Violet. His eyes flickered down her body then back up to her face, his smile becoming suggestive. He was still holding the blade against her neck, but now he was moving it; caressing her skin with it. Violet didn't like where this was going.

She could still hear Tate thrashing around on the ground to her right. But mixed with his sounds of frustration were now also sounds of exertion. The sounds of exertion were coming from his captors though, not from him. Grunts and groans. It was becoming increasingly difficult for the Goth and the Jock to hold onto their prisoner.

Violet turned her head slightly, careful not cut herself with the knife still resting against her neck. She could see that Tate was now on his side, his leg desperately kicking at empty air. Stephanie was sitting on top of him, trying to keep him still. Kyle was holding onto Tate's back, but Violet could see the Jock wasn't as committed to his task as the Goth was.

Tate's eyes locked with Violet's for a brief moment during the struggle. What she saw both relieved and terrified her. The look in his black eyes was murderous.

_Her_ darkness was returning at last. Violet couldn't hide the smirk coming to her lips.

Violet looked back at Kevin, filled with a sense of victory. "Hey asshole," she smirked, waiting as Kevin's attention was returned to her. "You are _really_ fucked now. Tate's gonna _kill_ you."

"Do you two need a hand there?" asked Kevin sarcastically, his attention turning to the three teens on the ground. He kept the knife loosely pressed against Violet's neck.

Violet watched as Tate continued to fight for his freedom. Between the wrestling bodies, Violet could see that he was half-kneeling now; his arms restrained behind his back by Kevin as Violet's were restrained by Amir. Stephanie was in front of Tate, pushing all her weight against his chest, trying to shove him back onto the ground.

"Kev, the bastard's getting hard to handle," grunted Stephanie, still trying to gain control over her prisoner.

"Kevin man, maybe we should just forget this," panted Kyle, the strain of holding onto Tate clearly showing in the boy's face.

"What the fuck Kyle! Every year we look for Langdon, and now we finally have him you want to give up? You want to let him go? You forget that he's the reason we're dead!" Kevin turned away from Violet, heading to join the group at the bonfire.

"I'm not giving up. I'm not going to kill an innocent girl. I'm not going to be a murderer, like _him_," Kyle motioned his head towards Tate.

"Innocent girl my ass," spat Stephanie "She's with him. She deserves to die." She managed to knee Tate in the stomach, sending him to the ground again. His struggles continued as Stephanie again sat on top of her prisoner, pushing his face into the sand.

Violet watched as Tate fought in vain against Stephanie and Kyle. His face was still buried in the sand. All Violet could see was his blonde curls illuminated by the bonfire. She could hear him choking for breath against the sand and the duct tape.

Kevin was silhouetted against the still blazing flames as he stopped at the writhing group in front of the bon fire. Each ghost on the ground was fighting for dominance. Violet watched as the leather-jacket clad boy stood there, observing. Slowly he sunk, until he was level with the group, the knife still in his hand. Tate had managed to free his face from the sand now. His eyes searched for Violet once more. They were still black with rage; with darkness. She only saw those eyes for a second though.

Violet stood frozen with horror as Kevin quickly drew his knife wielding hand above Tate's head, preparing to strike. He flipped the knife, using the blade as a handle. She couldn't contain her scream from escaping as Kevin brought that hand down with his full force against Tate's face. The butt of the knife connected with Tate's forehead, releasing a horrific, hollow thud. A stream of blood gushed from the wound. Tate's eyes rolled up with the impact, showing only the whites. His head fell forward; dead weight. His struggling stopped. Blood covered the right hand side of his face.

Her darkness was out cold.

Violet screamed again. She tried to untangle herself from Amir's iron grip, but the boy with the missing jaw wouldn't release her. He grunted sounds of annoyance and pulled her arms tighter behind her back. Tears fell at the searing pain.

How could they have knocked Tate out?

"_That's_ how you handle the bastard," smirked Kevin, proud of his handy work.

"We should just let her go Kev," said Kyle quietly as he looked at the boy next to him. "I don't want to kill anyone tonight. I'm fine with revenge on Langdon. Just let her go."

Kyle's eyes flickered to Violet's. Between her tears she could see he was genuine; he didn't want to hurt her.

Kevin stood back up, dropping Tate's unconscious head with a thud on the sand. The boy in the leather jacket towered over the group on the ground. Violet judged from his body language that he was extremely pissed. He was shaking with rage.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Messing with her is better than kicking the crap out of Langdon. See how he reacted when I cut her? And that was just a tiny nick. Way more effective than just beating him up. This is the best revenge we can get. It's like fucking Christmas tonight!" Kevin delivered another kick to Tate's motionless, unresponsive body. "Yep, messing with your head definitely feels better than just kicking your sorry ass."

Kevin stood silently for a moment, lost in thought. He looked back at Violet. The look he gave her sent a fresh wave of goose bumps across her body. She watched as a slow smile spread across his dead face. That smile wasn't going to mean good things for her.

Kevin knelt down next to Tate, roughly pulling the blonde boy's limp head out of the sand. He shook his hand, whipping the blonde head back and forth frantically like a rag doll. Tate's eyes started to open slowly. Violet could see the dazed look in those eyes; the unfocused expression on his face. His head bobbed about, taking in his surroundings with his still focusing eyes.

"Hey dipshit, wake up!" Kevin slapped Tate's face, getting his murderer's attention. "You might want to watch this. It's about to get good," Kevin smiled at Tate, taunting him.

Violet could see the darkness returning to Tate's eyes. With the darkness, also came his fight. Despite being pinned face-first to the ground by Stephanie and Kyle, his body madly thrashed about, throwing sand into the black night sky.

Kevin marched purposefully back to Violet, tucking the knife into the back of his pants as he walked. She could see determination in his eyes. He resumed his previous place in front of her, giving Tate a perfect view of what he was going to do. Kevin raised his arm to her face as if to strike. Violet braced herself and closed her eyes. She waited for the dead boy to hit her.

"See how much he hates it when I even touch her?" Kevin asked the other members of The Dead Breakfast Club as he ran his hand lightly along Violet's cheek. Her eyes snapped open at the unexpected touch. His touch was soft and gentle, but the look in his eyes wasn't gentle. Kevin was leering at Violet. His touch made her shudder violently.

He had found an entirely new way to torture Tate.

Violet could hear _her_ darkness screaming against his duct taped mouth. Growling like a dog defending its turf.

Each time Kevin touched her face he was rewarded with more violent sounds from Tate, his true victim. The sounds coming from Tate were animalistic. As Kevin touched her face, the sounds coming from Tate progressed from animalistic to insane cries of agony and frustration. Violet kept her eyes on Kevin though. She couldn't watch Tate go insane. Kevin was grinning openly. She felt his fingers slowly trail down her face, stopping when they reached her neck. He wrapped this hand around her neck, applying pressure. Kevin started to pull his hand up, lifting Violet's body slightly from the ground. She gulped for air. The pain was intense.

As the world started to go black, all Violet could hear were Tate's muffled screams and Kevin's laughter.

Just as suddenly as the pressure was applied, it was released. Violet's body slumped with relief, glad her feet were touching the ground again. Kevin's hand was trailing its way back up her neck, returning to her face. He cupped her cheek, running this thumb over her lips.

"Remember what I told you earlier sweetheart," Violet could feel Kevin's warm breath on her face as he spoke. "I told you to scream for Langdon. I don't hear screaming…"

Violet jerked her head, trying to free her face from Kevin's grasp. He only held on tighter.

"Fuck you, asshole!"

His free hand roughly grabbed her hair, forcing her face closer to his. "I want you to scream for Langdon to save you," he whispered to Violet. She could see his eyes were dark with cruelty. Beneath the cruelty lay something else though; lust. Violet felt Kevin's lips crush down painfully hard on her own. There was no way she could move, her arms were still pinned behind her back.

She could hear Tate howling and thrashing about against his teenage captor's.

Violet yanked her head painfully to the side, breaking the kiss and Kevin's hold on her neck. He dropped the handful of Violet's hair he had been clutching, surprised by her sudden move. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, licking Violet's blood from his lips. The bastard looked extremely pleased with himself, grinning ear to ear. She couldn't believe he had enjoyed doing that to her.

Her reaction to the kiss was pure instinct.

She spat in Kevin's face.

The satisfied expression on Kevin's face was instantly replaced by anger. Suddenly, he slapped Violet hard across her face with the back of his hand. She felt her head snap uncontrollably to the right with the force of the attack, her cheek on fire from the hit. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kevin reaching for something behind him. Violet wasn't sure what he was doing.

Then she saw the knife was in his hand again. He lifted his arm, preparing to strike. Violet closed her eyes. She heard the blade cut through the crisp night air, aimed squarely at her heart…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Violet's eyes were still clamped tightly shut. She heard Kevin's grunt as he thrust the blade towards her body. But there were other sounds she heard now too. She heard muffled cries of pain, followed by several sickening thuds in quick succession. She waited to feel the blade slip into her body; waited to feel the cool steel tear her chest apart. Violet expected the pain would be all consuming as the blade would slice through her chest like a hot knife through butter. She held her breath, waiting for the pain to hit her.

The pain didn't arrive.

Violet tentatively opened one eye. The scene before her was not what she expected to find. In fact, she could not believe what she was seeing.

Kevin was no longer standing in front of her, ready to attack. Instead, he was on the ground, entangled with another body. A person with blonde curls, wearing a baggy sweater and ripped jeans, was pummelling the leather jacket clad boy. Kevin tried to fight back, but it was no use. Punch after punch landed on his now swollen and bloodied face.

Violet could still feel Amir's hands gripping her arms, but his grasp had loosened slightly. What was before an agonising pain in her arms had now become a dull ache. She looked back to the bonfire. Her mind took in everything in front of her. She saw the piece of duct tape used to cover Tate's mouth now on the ground, coated with sand and blood. Stephanie was unconscious nearby, lying crumpled on the sand face first. Kyle was crouched next to Chloe, his arms wrapped around her still sobbing body, her head pressed into the crook of his neck. Violet's eye's locked with Kyle's again. She saw sorrow. And regret. He made no move to help Kevin or rouse Stephanie.

The hunting knife lay forgotten yards away.

Her attention returned to the two boys fighting on the sand near her. Calling it fighting was an exaggeration though; Kevin was getting his ass kicked. His body was curled into itself now, much as Tate's had been when Violet had first arrived at the bonfire. Tate was unrelenting though; he continued to deliver blow after crushing blow to Kevin, kicking and punching the boy in the same manner he himself had been beaten. Tate leaned down and grabbed the front of Kevin's shirt, lifting his victim's head out of the sand closer to his own.

"Don't FUCKING touch her again!" Each word spat from Tate's mouth was emphasized with a punch to Kevin's face.

Violet smirked. The cut in her lip cracked painfully with the movement. Her darkness had fully returned. That smirk gradually slipped though as she watched the one-sided fight between Tate and the now defeated Kevin continue pointlessly. She could see no end in sight for Tate's punishment of him. She needed to bring him back to her.

"Tate…"

Her voice broke thought Tate's murderous rage. He stopped mid-punch, dropping his fist lazily to his side. Kevin was forgotten, his unconscious body dumped carelessly on the ground. Tate turned his head, searching for where her voice had originated. When his eyes found hers, Violet felt her heart break again. The pain was the same pain she felt last year when she had ordered him to go away.

Darkness had completely consumed him. His eyes were black as night; cruel. His face was hard, set with an expression of pure rage. Violet had never seen him like this before. There was no light in his eyes. There was no trace of the boy she had loved… still loved.

Violet shuddered uncontrollably as Tate took one step towards her. She could feel Amir shaking behind her, his grasp still strong on her arms. Tate continued to walk forward, closing the gap between Violet and her captor. She unconsciously took a small step back, fearful at what was in front of her. She had never been on the receiving end of Tate's truly dark side. Judging by the look in the blonde boy's black eyes, she was about the experience the horror of Murder Houses' most malicious tenant.

She felt her body slam into Amir's. The boy with the missing jaw didn't budge though. He was frozen with fear.

Tate continued to advance, staring straight ahead. She could see his jaw clenched. His face was caked with dry blood, one eyelid still slightly swollen. His hands were broken and bloodied, each knuckle red raw. The terrifying, dead look in his eyes cut Violet the deepest though. She couldn't see any light in him, despite him beating Kevin to a bloody pulp for 'touching her'.

Her Tate was gone.

He was in front of her now. He didn't look down. He wasn't even trying to meet her eyes. Violet let out a sob as Tate raised his fist, bringing it level with his own face.

His fist whipped past Violet's face, easily missing her. It collided with the boy holding her captive though. She heard the sickening thud as skin connected with skin. She felt Amir's hands drop from her arms, freeing her. She pulled her arms around her torso in a reflex action, trying to rub the pain away from them. She kept her head down. She couldn't look at those murderous black eyes again. Not if they were focused on her as his next victim.

"I said don't fucking touch her."

Violet's head whipped upon hearing those words. Her face collided with the soft wool of the sweater Tate was wearing. His body was pressed against hers tightly as he leaned over her, speaking to Amir. Retching herself away from the familiar feel of Tate's body, so close to her after so long apart, she turned around to face her former captor. Violet needed to see what had happened to the boy who had been restraining her so painfully.

Amir was lying on the ground, his eyes locked with Tate's. His hands were held out in front of him in surrender. He was edging away from Tate and Violet. The boy with the missing jaw wasn't going to fight Tate.

Violet felt Tate's hands lightly resting on her shoulders, slowly spinning her back around to face him again. She let him move her, but she was uncertain of what to expect. She kept her head down, eyes tightly closed. She was unsure of what she might see in those black eyes when she looked into them. She didn't want to drown in his darkness.

Violet felt Tate's fingers reach under her chin, gently lifting her face up from her chest. She whimpered at the gentle touch. It was so familiar. She felt a feather-light touch over her entire face, fingertips caressing her differently to how Kevin had touched her. This touch was hesitant, but filled with affection. She felt the fingers stiffen when they reached the cut on her lip.

"Violet," He breathed her name in wonder, as is testing the sound of it. "Violet…Vi, it's ok. You can open your eyes now," Tate whispered as she felt his hand cup her face gently, his thumb caressing her still throbbing cheek.

She couldn't ignore the plea in his voice.

Violet opened her eyes slowly, unsure of who, what, she would see before her. The first thing she saw was his mouth. It was bruised and covered with dried blood. He was chewing his bottom lip nervously. She could see the small granules of sand stuck to his chin from the duct tape residue. Without thinking, she reached up to brush the offending sand away. Violet was surprised when she felt Tate lean into her hand slightly. She could feel the hesitation in his movement though, as if he wasn't sure that was ok.

Violet's fingers moved further up Tate's face, coming to rest on his sliced cheek. She ran her thumb lightly over long gash, tracing it down, trying to wipe the dried blood away. Rising slightly on the tips of her toes, Violet tried to get a closer look at the damage Kevin had inflicted with his sharp blade. Her face was so close to his now, she could feel his erratic breath against her lips. Violet felt Tate's head dip slightly in her hand, angling his face down towards hers.

Realising the position she was in, how close they had become, Violet dropped down from her toes, returning to her normal height and pulling away from Tate. She removed her hand from his face, letting it fall loosely at her side. She wasn't sure that she should be so familiar with him after all this time. She still hadn't forgiven him for his past sins.

"Vi, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Vi, I couldn't help… shit, I mean, I didn't… please don't…" choked Tate. Violet could hear the tears in his voice. Both of his hands held her face, but he was clutching desperately now.

She realized Tate thought she was going to tell him to go away again.

Violet covered one of Tate's hands with her own, gently squeezing it, trying to give him some small measure of comfort. She may not have forgiven him, but she didn't want the darkness to completely engulf him again. She wouldn't be able to handle it if the Tate she knew was gone forever. She still needed her sweet Tate to exist. Violet tucked her head down to her chest; it was a habit she couldn't shake. She needed a moment to herself, to prepare for what she was going to see when she looked into his eyes. She had always gotten lost in those eyes when she was alive.

Taking several deep breathes, Violet was finally ready to look into Tate's eyes. She was ready to face her darkness. Faintly, she could still feel his hands cupping her face, caressing it with his thumbs. She raised her head, letting her eyes take in the bruises and the cut on his cheek again. She could see the stale tear marks etched down his face. The remnants of dried blood streaked from his forehead, caked down the side of his face. Finally, her gaze came to a stop when her eyes met his.

His black eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Behind the unshed tears, Violet could see the uncertainty and anxiousness Tate was clearly feeling. He never hid his emotions from her. She was sure he didn't know how to hide them anymore. She realised that pulling away from his kiss had wounded him deeply…more deeply than watching Kevin man-handle her. He though she was rejecting him again.

She slowly rose on her toes again, breaching the gap between them. She could see the confusion clearly on Tate's face. He didn't move an inch though. Maybe he couldn't; a deer frozen in the headlights of oncoming traffic. Violet closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Tate's, breathing a sigh of relief when their heads finally touched. She balled her tiny fists in the soft wool of his sweater, using him as an anchor now, but still controlling the distance between them.

For now, this was all she could give him.

"Hey," Violet breathed. She had never been lost for words with him before, but being this close to him after such a long time apart made her nervous. There was so much she needed to say…that she should say. She felt the words she really wanted to say die on her tongue. She wanted to tell him she was his, always had been. She wanted to let him know she should have never sent him away. She wanted to tell him she still loved him. But after everything he had done, all the lives he had shattered, what could she possibly say to him to make it all better? He could never right the wrongs he was responsible for, and she could never forgive him for destroying so many lives.

Violet didn't know if telling him everything was any better than telling him nothing, but she decided to air on the side of caution. She was still unsure if the darkness would overtake him again.

"Violet," Tate's voice was filled with wonder. "Violet…"

"Is that the only thing you can say?" Violet joked, her eyes still closed, her forehead still resting against his gently.

She suddenly felt her body crushed against his in a tight embrace. The action was so quick, so unexpected, that her eyes snapped open instantly. Her forehead was no longer resting against his. Instead, her face was pressed into his shoulder, lost amongst a tangle of blonde curls. She coughed, struggling against the mass of hair that was blocking her mouth and nose. Tate's arms were wrapped, vice-like, around her body. She could feel his head buried against her neck. She could feel his tears seeping into her clothing.

"Vi…Vi, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to get dragged into this," Tate cried, his tears flowing freely. His arms were still firmly wrapped around her waist. Violet was convinced that Tate didn't intend to let her go again. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop those assholes from hurting you Vi."

"Tate, it's not your fault," Violet choked, struggling for breath. She awkwardly patted his back, trying to calm him down.

"No Vi, if I was stronger I would've been able to save you. God Violet, I never save you! All I want is to protect you, and I can't even do that. Whatever I do it's never enough." Tate's sobbing was becoming desperate. He wasn't talking about Kevin and the dirty knife anymore.

Tate was clutching as Violet painfully now. She could feel the air being squeezed from her lungs slowly. She knew he had no idea of what he was doing to her. He wouldn't hurt her intentionally.

"TATE!" Violet choked his name, beating on his back with her fist. The world was staring to go black around her. For once his embrace, not just his mere presence, was suffocating her.

Tate's vice-like grip loosened from Violet's waist, allowing her to take a step back from her blonde-haired saviour. She felt his arms dropped from her body entirely. Violet took several deep gulps, breathing in the cool night air. She was glad that the contact between herself and Tate was broken. Despite the crushing force of his embrace, she found she missed the familiar sensation of his arms around her. She wasn't ready to think about that familiar sensation again, not yet. It felt too much like home.

"Sorry," Tate mumbled, starring at the ground, his hands shoved into his pockets. He was too ashamed to meet her eyes. Violet had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his face; to bring his gaze back to her own. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to contain the desire to touch him again.

"Are you cold?" Tate asked her, his voice laced with concern.

Violet took a minute to answer, trying to think how best to explain this to him. "It's not that Tate," she sighed, putting her packet of cigarettes from her pocket and placing one in her mouth. She needed a distraction from the boy standing before her. Anything to keep her hands from reaching out to him.

Violet started searching her pockets for the accompanying lighter. Suddenly, the flame from a lit match was dancing before her eyes. Past the flame, she could see Tate's illuminated face, his black eyes hesitant. Violet leaned down into the small flame, inhaling deeply once her cigarette was lit. She returned her gaze to the ground as she smoked, trying to concentrate on the smoke filling her lungs and not the unstable boy before her.

"I didn't mean to grab you like that Vi. It's just…I thought you'd never speak to me again. God Vi, I'm sorry. I've missed you so…" Tate's voice cut off abruptly.

Violet's head snapped up, her concentration now squarely fixed on the blonde boy before her. She watched in horror as blood started spluttering from Tate's open mouth. He looked at her in confusion, trying to form words.

"Vi, run…" Tate whispered as his body slowly slumped to the ground. Violet could see the handle of the hunting knife lodged in his back, buried to the hilt.

"Sweetheart, you're next."

**A/N: I just wanted to thank you all for reading my fic, and to apologise for the delay in getting this latest chapter uploaded. Christmas and life in general has been extremely hectic this last month. I thank you all for your patience, understanding, enthusiasm and kind reviews. Knowing that you're enjoying this is what keeps me inspired. I hope you're still enjoying the journey with me!**


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